Bus Stop Blues
by Ignescent
Summary: Jay doesn't know why he takes the bus every day. Perhaps it's the urgent feeling he gets in his gut when he doesn't. But there has to be a deeper meaning to all of this, because a certain girl is changing his life far too fast for his mind to comprehend. She doesn't know his life's quite the lunacy, though. [Strictly One-Shot] [tw: self harm]
He's rushing to get to the bus stop one day, his hair dishevelled and blue clothes rumpled as he grips the bus tokens tightly in his palm. The adrenaline is flowing through him lightning fast, and he is quick to react around the pedestrians that crowd the streets. He still smells like motor oil from repairing a junkyard car earlier that morning. His stomach growled hungrily and his jaw ached. Disorganized was the perfect word to describe Jay Walker.

Disorganized thoughts. Disorganized machinery. His clothes were probably on _backwards_ for all he knew.

And the bus was going to leave him in a few minutes if he didn't get his act together.

All Jay really knows is that he cannot miss this bus no matter the circumstances. Even when his thin body yearned for him to stop and take a break, he found himself running to what could be the only escape from this place.

(He has missed this bus plenty of times before.)

(He swore he wouldn't miss the next one.)

His parents didn't care what their dear son did nowadays, as long as he looked to the bright side of things. Even though he moved out months ago, living on dimes and a penny - and maybe a dustbunny or two - he still goes by their words. It's the only thing he has left of them, anyways.

Now, Jay Walker was a simple man with simple goals and dreams. His dreams may have been a little...messier than others', per say, but they were definitely dreams. He wanted to be a great inventor someday. An inventor so great that everybody knew his name by heart and kissed the ground he walked on. It would never happen but, oh, a man could dream.

...

Could he even call himself a man? He was young, sure, but real men don't show weakness.

This sinking feeling he constantly had in the pit of his gut? The scars that patterned his wrist? He was weak, so weak…

But to top it all off: nobody knew a thing.

And Jay was perfectly fine with that. Like all inventors, he can invent his way out.

* * *

They always assign the same bus driver to his route. A bright old man with a scraggly white beard who enjoys telling his tales to curious passengers. Friendly. Always had bottles of tea by his side. The fellow was high on the stuff. Contrarily, Jay never really had a taste for tea.

This time, he was pitiful for Jay as he dashed through the bus doors, chest panting heavily as he lets the tokens slide from his slippery hand and into the box. Like all the days before, the bus wasn't too crowded. One could easily get a seat.

He prefers sitting next to the window. The scenery helps him get his mind off things, as if the outside world was a television screen and the brilliant blue sky was his favorite show. Nobody ever bothers him, truth be told. He is some sort of cursed emblem that no one wants to pick up. Like all the days before, Jay sits alone.

(He doesn't mind.)

(He likes sitting alone.)

When everything feels right with the world and his dark thoughts subside, white noise filling his ears as his temple presses against the glass window, he would finally sleep.

He can't think of a single reason why he does this everyday. Maybe it's for his own good.

 _Yes,_ Jay agrees as he stares at three specific scars on his arm. Three scars each. One scar for each time he has missed the bus.

Perhaps it's out of habit that he does this. That taking the bus is his only remedy, and whenever he's late, he's thrown back into the street like an abandoned puppy. Taking the bus is a comfort, and a habit he has yet to get rid of.

At least no one saw his scars.

* * *

No one ever wakes Jay up. It's usually himself who wakes up late at night, being the last remaining passenger on the bus. And then from there, he gets right off, walks home in pitch black darkness. Looks like an exhausted father coming home from work with money to feed his kids.

Jay scoffs. _Father_.

But something was different this time around. A petite hand had grabbed his shoulder gently, awakening him from his peaceful slumber. He is cranky, but not upset. He stares groggily at his lap as the stranger's soft voice snaps him out of limbo.

"Excuse me - can I sit here?"

Sometime during the ride, Jay had managed to take up the entire seat with his body.

"U-Uh, yeah, um, sorry," he says awkwardly, scooting back towards the window. The sun was beginning to set, encasing the bus in a radiant orange hue. The woman smiles at his silliness. "It's okay. I'm a bit tired myself."

Jay stares, and stares, and stares at her complexion. For in the sunset, the perfect amount of light hits her cheekbones at the right angle, and she is _insanely beautiful_. He hopes she can't see him blushing behind her gorgeous raven hair.

She doesn't seem to notice his staring, and neither does anyone else. The bus is full today, yet everyone is quiet or humming to their own tune or dozing off in the back of the bus. Jay has never seen this girl here before, but perhaps it's because he's never awake. It seems that fate has brought them together.

 _And yes, creepy old bus driver. I see you staring at me through the mirrors. Quit being a creep!_

Her hands are folded neatly upon her lap, and almost touch the edges of the short red dress she's wearing. Her face is settled into a calm expression - one of sadness or longing. Like she wants to be somewhere, but can't. He of all people would know how that feels.

"What's your name?" Jay murmurs so only she can hear, and she's already so kind to him it's almost unbelievable. He hopes his words don't rub the wrong way. The last thing he wants is to sound like a stalker.

"Nya… and what about you, Mr. Blue?"

Jay marvels. A beautiful name for a beautiful girl. He almost doesn't hear her when she asks the question in return. (He definitely heard the nickname though- how cute!)

"Jay. I've uh, never seen you take this bus before Miss Nya. First time?"

She shakes her head. "This is my second. My brother's birthday is tomorrow and I'm going to surprise him."

A simple "Oh." is all he can manage out.

"Yeah. He's the only family I have left, so I gotta support him, y'know?"

Jay nods to show that he's listening. He can't concentrate when she bats her eyes or when her knees accidentally brush against his. He's only known her for a couple minutes and he's already intoxicated.

Oh, who was he kidding. Maybe he's just fooling himself into thinking he's in love.

"I know how you feel. My parents died a few years back. You're lucky to have a brother," he replies.

Nya gives him an apologetic look. "I guess there _is_ something we have in common." She brushes her fingertips against his shoulder in some sort of odd-comforting, and Jay nearly faints.

 _Please have a boyfriend pleasehaveaboyfriend_

He clears his throat to cool his mind, giving another glance to the sunset on his right. He doesn't say anything else after that and neither does she.

When her stop finally arrives, she waves him goodbye and thanks him for the conversation, the image of her red dress still on his mind.

He hopes she has a good time.

* * *

Nya doesn't take the bus for the next couple days and suddenly he feels all too lonely. It's too quiet for his mind to handle. He yearns for another conversation with the stunning goddess.

Jay wants to know more about her. What was Nya's favorite color? Did she like cats? What did she do in her pastime?

He begins saving a spot for her on the bus, albeit nobody sits beside him anyway; he feels obligated to do so. It's like a...reserved seat. For showing kindness to him.

He misses the stranger all too much. To another person, he probably looked like a weirdo. Or a stalker. Maybe pervert?

But- ugh- he couldn't control his feelings. It wasn't entirely his fault! Besides, all he wants is conversation and a friendship. That's what he tries to convince himself, at least.

It's a warm Thursday evening the next time he sees Miss Nya. Approximately 75 degrees Fahrenheit. Approximately 25 percent deeply in love.

"How was your brother's birthday?" Jay asks as she settles down beside him. She is wearing a different dress now, but it remains the same shade of crimson.

"You remembered!" Nya exclaims. "It went great. Kai's a rascal as always. It's hard to control him."

"He sounds like a fiery guy."

"Trust me, he is."

* * *

Jay learns more about her on that Thursday bus trip.

Nya is two years younger than him. She adores cats. Her favorite color is blue.

He nearly jumped out of his seat on that last one.

But more importantly, Miss Nya has a passion for engineering. Jay did not know many girls who took a liking to such a dirty hobby, but Nya did. He finds out that she's built many mechs in the past. He tells her that he's an inventor. She suggests collaborating together, and it blows Jay's mind.

She writes her number on his arm and tells him to stay in touch. He feels his body surge with excitement, like lightning zapping all throughout his body. Everything is numb and it feels _great_.

He doesn't call her, however, but he keeps the number safely written down somewhere.

Jay prefers listening to her voice when it's coddled up beside him instead.

* * *

Nya begins to take the bus every couple days now, even if she has no destination. She enjoys talking to her bus pal. Jay feels grateful to have been presented such an opportunity.

Over the course of a few weeks they've grown into amazing friends. Nya wonders why he doesn't call, and Jay's only excuse is "My phone is broken."

And she'll smack him playfully and tell him to stop kidding around, tell him he's an intelligent man and that it's such an obvious lie. She's only partially correct.

Nya is shivering constantly from the air conditioning so Jay offers his jacket to her. She accepts it happily, snuggling into its navy warmness. She says it smells like home.

"Your home smells like an auto body shop?"

"Doesn't yours?"

Of course, she wants to know more about him as well so he obliges. Jay tells her about his personal interests and she is intrigued.

He loves sharing the same favorite color as her.

He did not love telling her about his humble beginnings, however.

It was too awkward. He couldn't tell her how he grew up poor. How he spent his entire childhood playing in the dump. Luckily, Nya never delves into his past.

They pass the last stop sign just before her stop. The time comes for her to leave.

Like every trip, she waves goodbye and Jay promises to see her again. His fingers graze the glass window, stroking over the reflection of her face as the bus rolls forward.

She's still wearing his jacket upon her shoulders. He doesn't mind because he finds it funny how big it is compared to her smaller frame. He'll see her again, and tease her for forgetting to give it back to him.

Her vivid red is drowning in his unsettled blues, but to him she looks like purple perfection.

* * *

"And then, right as I cut the wire the entire thing _explodes in my face_!"

"Is that how you got your scar?" Nya points to the notch in his eyebrow, stifling a giggle. "Dummy."

"Hey! As a matter of fact, I think this scar makes me look much cooler."

"Riiiight, and much more macho, too!"

Jay had tried to take his jacket back days ago but Nya insisted that he let her keep it longer. Apparently, his blue grease-stained coat helps her sleep easier at night. Whatever that means.

"You still won't call me," she teases. He bites his lip, trying to prevent himself from blushing, and her adorable kitten face isn't helping. He exhales the air he doesn't realize he's holding in. "Okay, okay. I didn't want to call you because talking to you in person is so much better."

Jay squeezes his eyes shut, waiting for a slap or a snarky comment but there are none. Instead, Nya is grinning like an idiot and he can't help but smile just a little. The bus drives quickly over a speedbump and Jay bites his tongue because of it. Laughter ensues and now his blush is clear as day.

"We _could've_ talked in person while building those mechs if you would've called."

He sighs, chuckling quietly. "I know...Sorry, Nya."

Her fingers tap against her wrist, and she's humming a familiar tune under her breath that Jay can't seem to remember. Their heads are leaning back against the seat, lazy under the summer sun.

"Come home with me."

The boy blinks, almost jumping out of his seat. "Uh- e-excuse me?"

Nya tilts her head and gives him a weird look. "You wanted to build stuff, right?"

Oh, duh. "Yes!" He says a little too excitedly and clears his throat. "I mean uh, yeah, sure. Of course."

Her eyes are asking _what-did-you-think-I-meant_ and now he has no other choice but to look out the window and pretend that never happened.

"We can get off at this stop," she says as she taps his shoulder to alert him.

And they exit the bus together, the sunset skimming the horizon and the sound of crickets amongst them, a perfect display of summer.

For once, Jay is happy.

* * *

They have such a good time together, it's almost like a dream. A weird, fantasy dream that you never want to end. Jay didn't even know he could fall so much harder for her.

She wasn't lying about her engineering skills. She's a great one at that, and together they make the perfect team.

Jay and Nya spend the entire night tinkering in her garage where pieces of scrapped machines lay untouched - until now.

Many puns are passed as time moves along. Their clothes are stained with oil down to the seams, and Jay's white tee is considerably unwearable at this point.

Her house is small but cozy. She's most likely living by herself, but the humongous mess cluttering the floor says otherwise. It's pretty nonetheless, and _way_ better than his. At least Nya is going somewhere with her life. Jay on the other hand is only a shack compared to her soaring skyscraper. He is proud of her, though. Even if she doesn't realize it.

" _It's been fun today, Jay. I haven't done something like this in a very long time."_

He blushes. Covers up his cheeks with his hands because _Nya still has his jacket for crying out loud._

He ponders on whether he should let her keep it or not.

Jay sighs.

* * *

The leaves are beginning to fall now, crowding the streets with the remains of beautiful dead leaves. Humanity's very own sunset, swimming just below their feet, decaying ever so slowly.

(Jay is decaying alongside them.)

Nya is taking the bus less and less. She says she's been busy with work - apparently she _does_ work at an auto body shop - and has no time to take the bus. But she makes an effort to call him on her lunch breaks, which Jay treasures endlessly.

He texts her a little too much but Nya says it's okay. She likes the company he gives her. They'll send stupid emojis back and forth and laugh on opposite sides of the screen.

Jay stops cutting for a while, not because he's missed the bus, but because of the girl he's grown to admire within the past few months. The three scars on his wrist are visible as ever without the curtain of his jacket to hide them.

Eventually, Nya noticed the scars when she grabbed onto his wrist and felt them by accident. Instead of yelling or urging him to stop, she simply hugged him as tight as she possibly could, trying to pour all of her love unto him.

" _I'll always be here if you need me, Jay."_

" _I care about you."_

He swore he saw Nya cry when she pulled away but he wouldn't dare call her out on it. Jay doesn't want to see her sad because of him ever again so he stops. He cares about Nya just as much as she does him. If anything happened to her he would go insane. It's only fair that he stopped for her.

Since then, Nya takes it into her own hands to watch over him. She'll ask how he's doing every once in awhile to make sure he's doing okay. He appreciates her concern greatly, but she shouldn't have to worry about him.

He doesn't matter. She does.

* * *

Today marks their four month anniversary of meeting each other. He can't believe it's been that long. He can't believe how clean he's been.

Jay notices something strange, however.

With each passing month, Nya is beginning to pull away from him. He doesn't know if the reason is himself or because of something else, but it hurts him so much inside to see his friend refusing to open up.

She doesn't take the bus anymore, and if she does, she has somewhere important to get to.

She doesn't text. No more silly emojis to entertain them, for now each sentence of hers seems to have died along with the rest of her happiness.

She doesn't call. He misses the sound of her voice, not the fake voicemail behind his screen.

She doesn't look him straight in the eye. Nya tries _so hard to_ but she _can't_. His stormy eyes are innocent as they are powerful.

A part of Jay wants to die inside. He mulls over his speculations of what could be happening to his bus friend but nothing matches up. Nya would have told him what was wrong, and she wouldn't have lied about their entire friendship. Right?

He closes his eyes as his forehead rests on the cool glass window. Autumn this year has been a rainy season - not that Jay dislikes it. In fact, he loves the rain and the storm that forms with it. A beautiful array of thunder and lightning under one sky and (nobody to share it with).

All Jay can do right now is wait out the storm.

* * *

It's raining the next time he sees her, and again she is quiet.

Nya doesn't say anything to him. There's nothing _to_ say.

Jay tries to convince her to tell him what's wrong but she shoves the conversation away. Turns a cold shoulder to him. He struggles an internal conflict inside on whether he should force her to tell him what's wrong, or leave her be. It's tempting to do one, but the only thing fueling Jay right now is fear and concern.

"Why won't you talk to me?" He asks, staring at the back of her head. Her hair is cut shorter, but he likes it.

No reply. Only a sniffle. Nya curls deeper into the side of the seat, burying herself into the puffiness of Jay's blue jacket.

"Are you crying?" He whispers, frightened. He's never seen a friend cry in front of him before, and now he's more confused as ever. He slowly brings his hand to her shaking shoulder - she's crying silently - and tries to his best to comfort her.

However, as soon as his fingers make contact, Nya pulls away, furious. "I'm _fine_ , Jay! Please, stop. Please…"

He leaves her alone after that because she's scary when she's mad. Nya is glancing between his fearful expression and the foggy window beside him. A sigh escapes her pink lips. "I'm visiting Kai again. Don't try to follow me," she orders, recalling the time when he tried to leave the bus with her.

He's embarrassed. He knows she's upset about him, now. It has to be him. It _has_ to be him.

Nya's stop arrives and this time there is no smile or a giggle or a wave. Only silence as she exits the bus and walks away.

She doesn't look back.

* * *

 _12:03 am._

Jay feels his phone buzz in his pocket as he works on the hood of a car. His eyes light up as he drops the handlebar in his hand and scrambles to reach for his phone. Nya's name lights up at the top and he doesn't know what to think. Grease smears the screen as he hurries to reply. He wonders if she's still upset.

 _N: I need to talk to you._

Jay gulps, but he clutches the phone as securely as he can without dropping it.

 _J: Yeah of course what is it?_

 _N: Are you able to take the bus this weekend?_

 _J: always._

Jay closes his eyes and takes deep breathes. He's scared. Worried.

Nya is going to tell him that she wants to end everything altogether, isn't she? She's going to tell him that he's been a bad friend and he deserves to die, isn't she?

There's nothing left to say. He's in over his head.

Jay, upon realizing this, goes back to working on the car.

* * *

The love of his life is sitting next to him, but there is no love. No words. No smiling. Nya's eyes are red and puffy from crying and Jay doesn't know what to do. He squeezes his eyes shut, fearing the worst for what is yet to come.

"Jay, look at me." Her voice is broken. He knows she has shattered into pieces. She doesn't look so different now, for he is just like her. Perhaps she hurt herself upon fixing his own broken pieces.

"Jay, look at me," she begs again. And hearing her beg to him is almost unbearable.

He opens his eyes to see her pierced brown ones staring up at him.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Nya cries. Nya doesn't cry, ever. If it weren't for the emptiness inside of him, maybe he'd be crying too. "I have to go, Jay. Somewhere far away. I didn't know how to tell you…"

Her cold hands wrap around his bruised ones. He's so upset. He can't stand this false closeness. "Why," Jay mumbles, "why didn't you talk to me? Do you even-"

"I know. But I'm talking to you now. I'll make it up to you." _Lies._

She strokes her hand against his cheek, soft and comforting. Once upon a time, he'd turn into a flustered, muttering, blushing mess. But now- he feels nothing. "When are you leaving?"

Her answer is almost instantaneous, as if she had been planning out their conversation for who knows how long. "A couple weeks."

He doesn't accept her affection. He can't. It makes his stomach turn and Nya knows this. She pulls him into a long hug to make it up to him. His face presses into the crook of her neck, but he still can't find the energy to return her hug so his hands wander to her sides instead. She subtly smells of peaches.

"I'll miss you," he hears himself say.

"We'll see each other again soon."

* * *

Jay knows Nya has stayed true to her word.

It's almost as if he never met her in the first place. She's been erased from his life and all he can do is choke back sobs in the middle of the night. The universe wants to return the most beautiful gift they've ever given him.

He wants to cut _so bad_. Nya convinced him to flush his blades away, though. He doesn't want to break the promise he made but it hurts god awfully bad. He starts to believe that the eye of the storm may never be coming.

On the rainiest day of the month, Jay comes to a decision.

As the bus comes to a stop, right after passing the twisted willow tree and the scattered bird's nest, Jay walks to her house in the rain. His white tee is completely soaked at this point but he doesn't care. Whether he felt nothing or everything at once was...something Jay wishes he knew.

He needs to know if Nya moved out already. It's been a long time since their last reunion. If he could see her one last time, he would give her the biggest hug. He'd finally tell her that he loves her, and it wouldn't matter if she reciprocated those feelings. She needed to know.

Jay approaches the house he's grown to love. Everything is the same, from the old welcome mat to the cracked windchimes that fell apart ages ago. He peeks through the window expecting to see empty rooms but there are none. For everything is as she left it, and nothing has been touched. Jay is worried now, because it either means that she's been lying to him this entire time, or that something is very, very wrong.

He hopes it is not the latter. He can even see his jacket lying across the cushions of her fluffy brown couch.

Jay knocks. And knocks. Rings the doorbell a couple times. Calls her cell phone. Taps on the glass. He doesn't know why he's expecting someone to reply. The storm floods his brain with the darkest thoughts but he does not cry. Instead, he collapses against the door, defeated, and mulls over his options.

Forget about her. Forget about the past few months they spent together. Delete the entire hard drive of his mind-

His phone vibrates softly.

His blue eyes are eager to read the text but he can't help but feel suspicious. Jay's fingers tremble as he goes to pick it up. _Is it really her?_ He thinks upon seeing the three repeating dots on the lower side of the screen.

No. It isn't her, of course. The texter had seemed to get a hold of her phone.

 _N: Who are you?_

A few seconds pass in anticipation. His blood feels frozen. He doesn't know what to say.

 _N: And why are you texting my sister?_

Indubitably, it's her brother, Kai. Nya must've left her phone with him on her last visit. It's none of his concern why, but... _why?_ Jay bites his lip nervously, unknowing. "What's going on?"

 _J: I'm a friend of hers._

 _N: *I was_

 _J: Excuse me…?_

 _N: You seriously don't know? Ha, and you say you're a friend._

He gulps. A bead of sweat drips down his temple, even in the chilly weather. His wet shirt is starting to make him feel lethargic and ill. Surely he's hallucinating?

 _J: Explain._

 _N: Jay, right?_

 _J: Stop stalling. Please._

 _N: I'm sorry. Nya passed away last week. She was very ill. I thought she would've told you, but I guess you guys weren't that close._

Seconds pass. Jay's eyes are no longer glued to the screen.

 _N: Don't text this number anymore._

His phone slips from his hands and onto the wooden floorboards beneath. "Tell me you're joking," he pleads, cold lips quivering, "please. _Please_. Oh my god…no..."

Jay buries his head in his hands and cries. The rain pours harder, and soon he can hear lightning crackle high up in the clouds. But he doesn't care, because his heart is beating so fast it could burst at any moment. "N-not her. Not Nya."

He can't breathe. The news of her death punches him straight in the gut and leaves him breathless.

In the distance, through the rumbling of rain and lightning and thunder, a dying wail is heard.

* * *

His brilliant blue eyes are no longer happy. They no longer shine of meek innocence and power. Like him, they have been drained of life.

Jay doesn't laugh like he used to. He tries to find humor in life but everything is so dark and he's so sorrowful, it's depressing. He still wants to cut. He has to use the only strength he has to refrain himself - to keep his promise to Nya.

All he wants is for them to be together again. He wants her to sit next to him on the bus and tell her stupid jokes just so he can see her beautiful smile. He wants to feel her strands of hair tickle his jaw as her head rests on his shoulder. He wants her and it hurts.

"You never lied to me, Nya," Jay laughs miserably. "You knew you were sick the entire time and yet you chose to spend your last few moments with a stranger you met on the bus."

His fist clenches the bouquet in his hand tightly. "I only wish you had the strength to tell me." Jay gently places the roses at her abandoned doorstep. It may not have been the same as her grave, but her home felt just as special. It possessed their precious memories, too, and he knew they'd treasure them forever.

(If he were to visit her sleeping body six feet under the ground, he may have gone insane.)

He kisses his fingertips and strokes them along the door, mumbles something of longing and a prayer. The young man bids his love a farewell, hands in the pocket of a new jacket.

She could never give his old one back.

* * *

Disorganized is the perfect word to describe Jay Walker.

Disorganized life. Disorganized feelings.

And the bus had picked him up ages ago, on the corner of Williams and Strenard.

All Jay really knows is that he's still living for a reason, and it's what Nya would have wanted so badly for him so he complies.

He never gets more than four scars. It has and will always be three; three blind mice, three musketeers. He thinks that meeting her was destiny. He knows that her death was a cruel twist of fate. Jay believes that everything happens for a reason, but a part of him continues to be in denial.

The bus is quiet again today, just like yesterday and the day before. His head leans against the window, and it's vibrating slightly. The air conditioning continues to hum quietly and it makes him think of her songs. Someone in the back coughs. The elderly man driving the bus clears his throat and untangles his long white beard from the mechanics.

The scent of peaches drifts around him, and it makes Jay feel warm. He no longer feels sad, but calm as the peaceful facade slips over him.

Jay Walker closes his eyes and embraces the eye of the storm.


End file.
